


Kinktober Day 29: Piss

by ecrituredudesir



Category: Furry (Fandom), Original Work
Genre: Consumption, F/M, Filth, Filth Eating, Piss, Unsanitary, Urine, Watersports, piss drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 02:11:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21236420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecrituredudesir/pseuds/ecrituredudesir
Summary: Kinktober Day 29 PromptPiss / UrineA commission for someone on furaffinity.





	Kinktober Day 29: Piss

In the weeks that followed her somewhat embarrassing performance at the races alongside their friend group, Terry had been...benevolent enough to allow Mandy to return semi-regularly to the park to clean the public bathrooms with only her tongue and an empty stomach. Though some of the substances and built up filth of the bathroom was almost enough to make her stomach turn, it was something she couldn’t pass up; she would rather eat her fill of stranger’s feces rather than starve to death, after all.  
  
This time was no exception, though there were a few special circumstances. As she followed Terry through the park, it was the rising realization that they had never ventured this far away from the main path—it was along one of the hiking trails, fairly far away from the main park. Because of the distance, she was relatively surprised to find a little brick bathroom building off of that beaten path, though it looked like it was once part of the park which had overgrown and been lost mostly just to the hikers and joggers that wanted a longer morning run than what the main park normally offered.   
  
From how aged the building was, and how far away it was from the rest of the park’s power grid, she could tell initially that it wasn’t on the power grid, with nothing but the natural light filtering in through the dim, long-broken windows. The scent and set up of the bathroom inside told her that it wasn’t on the city’s main water supply, either. Judging from the trash and debris lingering the floor of the hallway to the men’s room, it hadn’t been cleaned in much longer than any of the other bathrooms that she herself had serviced in the last few weeks. Looking in, the dim lighting cast a faint glow over the main ‘feature’ of the bathroom, which confirmed that it wasn’t on the main water network of the city. Against the wall set an old-style ‘watering’ trough where park guests were expected to urinate, and under normal conditions, it would have been taken out and emptied by park employees. Since it had been so long since anyone had been out to this particular bathroom that it hadn’t been emptied in years, possibly.   
  
A fine layer of nearly crystallized dried urine rest at the bottom of the trough, but it was obviously used often enough that it hadn’t dried out—it was just so completely full that even the steps they took in the hollow room made little vibrations across the yellow puddle that topped off the trough. It seemed on the verge of brimming over at any second, but considering the dried yellow puddle around it, she wouldn’t be surprised if it’d overfilled and overflowed countless times with the last several hundred patrons of it, drying to the bottom or dripping over every single time.   
  
“Me and the boys walk past here whenever we need to make quick deliveries from the parts store to the shop,” Terry announced, looking a bit smug as he gestured to the trough. “So you could think of this as us saving up, just for you. Thought the park out here needed a little TLC though, and since you’ve been acting so hungry and thirsty lately for every other bathroom around, I figured I’d leave you here as a little treat.”   
  
A brief look of confusion crossed Mandy’s face as he mentioned leaving her here. With a small smirk, Terry stood back and folded his hands behind his back. “You’ll have all weekend, but you’ll also have to drink every drop here. Make sure you clean the bathroom thoroughly afterwards. If you don’t finish it all, then I’ll just have to not feed you for a few days, since clearly that means you aren’t as hungry or thirsty as you say you are most of the time.” Mandy went pale as she thought of even less food than she normally received off of his feet, not sure that she’d be able to make it the ‘few days’ that he was threatening to hold her back from. Still, he lifted his brows at her, and made one sharp move towards the trough.   
  
“Well? What are you waiting for? Your weekend starts right now, after all,” he announced, and realizing that the clock was already ticking, she hastily moved over to it and dropped to her knees. She could feel her knees scrubbing against the dirt and mess of the bathroom floor.  
  
Terry’s statement of them ‘saving up’ the urine was an understatement. Though the entire bathroom had reeked of the old waste, actually kneeling before the trough made her inhale a putrid scent so strong that her eyes started watering on the spot. It was hard to breathe in the near ammonia-like smell, telling her there were probably some cats among Terry’s friends that made the aroma all the worse. The urine had been there for weeks upon months and maybe even years, making so much of the liquid a dark, murky brown with some of the newer stuff, possibly from even that morning, linger on the top of the mess with a brighter yellow tinge. Biting her lower lip, she swallowed to try and force the scent down so she could block her own nose, her arms stretched wide as she grasped the sides of the trough, only to make the piss, lukewarm in the summer afternoon, dip against her hands and wrists as she tucked them a little too low over the edge of the trough. Wincing at the strangely pervasive, warm sensation of the slime skirting the top of it clinging to her fur, she instead hastily lifted her hands to slurp what had covered her palms first, knowing that without any source of fresh water, she would have no way of cleaning up over the next several days. She squinted at the sharp, vile taste, but she had gotten so proficient with stomaching unpleasant things by then that it didn’t even make a dent in the time it took her to clean the old urine from her hands. Instead of grasping the trough by the sides this time, she folded her arms quickly in front of herself over her stomach, leaning over to drink from it as if an animal might instead.   
  
Her lips pursed, and she slurped at the film and freshest urine on the top of the trough as if she were drinking the foam off of a warm latte. It was easier to pretend it was anything else, but inevitably, the strong taste—more powerful than any of the toilets or urinals she had cleaned so far under Terry’s allowance—blocked out any ability she might have had to try and stifle the realism of the piss burning with near acidity at her lips, sliding down her throat in an uncomfortable lukewarm plethora. It was far different than drinking Terry’s fresh piss—at least that was hot and worked its way down quickly. This, however, was thicker and more difficult to swallow with how old and somewhat grainy it seemed to be. Terry watched on in amusement at how quickly she was getting to work—but he knew his girlfriend, and he knew that if she actually managed to get through the trough and clean up the bathroom afterwards, it’d be no small feat. He’d picked this particular challenge to test those limits, knowing just how far she had been able to push herself with cleaning the other restrooms in the park before.   
  
However, he also didn’t plan on sticking around all weekend to watch her wear herself out. He was far too fond of their comfortable bed and the air conditioning in the apartment, even though he had a delightful mental image of her pouring sweat while struggling to keep herself hydrated on the piss that would probably only dry her out a little more.   
  
“Remember. I’ll be back Sunday night, so get it done by then,” he noted, not waiting for a response before he ducked back out of the hallway and headed back down the path that they’d followed to come to the derelict bathroom. The reminder sparked some sense of urgency in her, making her close her eyes juts a little tighter as she dipped her mouth forward, opening it wider to start taking open-lipped swallows, her tongue curling and swaying through the darker, orangey brown abyss of piss. It dipped and burned at her nose, making her eyes water as she pulled back. Though she had taken several, hefty swallows of the sharp liquid, it seemed that she’d barely made a single dent in the supply waiting in the trough. At most, it’d only decreased by a few, precious centimeters, leaving her desolate at the thought that she had just under forty eight hours to actually work her way through the supply.   
  
She took a few, desperate breaths to work the urine down without inhaling any, before she shoved her face forward once more, outright slurping from the plentiful fount of piss once again, desperate to avoid the punishment that would follow failure in cleaning the entire trough. She nearly coughed and sputtered a few times in her haste to force the urine, which was gradually thickening the further she manages to go down. By the time an hour had passed, she was having to take her first break, leaning back against the wall as her hand rested against her belly, which showed noticeable signs of bloating. Using her nails, she was already chipping up little pieces of dried urine around the trough, lifting it like flat chips to her mouth to eat instead, hoping it would soak up some of the already excess fluid dwelling in her stomach. After an hour, she would continue, working her way through layer after thick, viscous layer of hundreds of men’s bladders worth of urine, most of them strangers who she would never meet but who she probably couldn’t face with confidence if she ever learned the existences of.   
  
The night passed with no sleep. Any time she thought she would be able to catch a few minutes of rest, she was plagued by her boyfriend’s warning of starvation, and no matter how much she’d already put back to drink, she dipped her head to sip from the bottom once more. Now there was a thicker film at the bottom, where the urine of heavier consistency sank—that from more dehydrated sources, a mucky, putrid brown that she wouldn’t be surprised over if part of it came from a source more _behind_ than in front of. She’d tasted the feces of plenty of others in the park bathrooms so far, and the way the layers clung to her tongue and the roof of her mouth when she lapped them up reminded her distinctly of it.   
  
The morning rays cracked through the window and illuminated the room, showing that, to her dread, she had only managed to clear out about half of the trough throughout the night. She had only a few, precious hours to work with, and that was what made her limbs and tongue start moving with desperation. She went so far as to lower her head even, forcing the trough upwards at an angle as she tilted it back, trying to pour the sludgy urine down her throat by force, but that only wound up making even more of a mess.   
  
The hours passed in a tense anticipation, one after spent swallowing impossible amounts of waste from any number of other creatures. Just when she licked the bottom of the trough clean did she realize that the afternoon hours were stretching on—and she hadn’t even made a dent in the rest of the bathroom first. She could feel the tears of panic welling in her gaze, and she scrubbed her tongue nearly raw along the tiling of the cracked floors. By some stroke of luck, or more likely a miracle, she collected the last smudge of scattered, hardened urine from the tiles right as Terry walked in, and gave an impressed whistle.   
  
“Well well, babe. Nice work. But I wanted you to do the outside, too.”


End file.
